


Of Ego, Approval, and Justifiable Homicide

by last_illusions (injured_eternity)



Category: CSI: NY, Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-16
Updated: 2009-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injured_eternity/pseuds/last_illusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Rick Castle, Detective Don Flack.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Ego, Approval, and Justifiable Homicide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeldaOphelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaOphelia/gifts).



“Hey.” The tall, lanky homicide detective slid into the booth at Pigalle’s, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry I’m late.”

Too tired to even consider getting upset over _that_ , Kate Beckett just waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, Don. I was late, too, just earlier than you.”

Grinning, Don Flack paused to let the waiter leave him a glass of water, then said, “You always did have impeccable timing.”

The younger detective grinned back involuntarily, turning just a little red. She’d found out two years ago it was impossible to not respond to that utterly disarming smile of his, and even after seeing him for months, it still made her feel like a high school girl with a crush on the star football player.

“So what’s got you all stressed out?” he asked after a moment. The lines around her mouth and eyes were just a little too deep, her shoulders a little too tight. She wasn’t _upset_ , per se, but it hadn’t been a normal day.

She rolled her eyes and groaned, dropping her head into her hands and mumbling something he didn’t quite catch. All he heard was something about castles and shadows, and since when had they started talking about… medieval fantasy?

“Wait, what?”

A sigh. She picked her head up and repeated, more audibly this time, “Rick Castle is shadowing me, and he’s a pain in the ass.”

He frowned, trying to place the name. It made more sense now, but who… Oh. “You mean that author you like so much?”

Glaring, she pointed a warning finger at him. “You will never again state that fact in public,” she informed him, and he assumed the exasperation in her voice was not aimed at him. “He is absolutely insufferable. He has an ego the size of China and Russia combined, and _my captain likes him_.”

He wanted to laugh at the irony, at the expression on her face, at… well, he’d had an odd day, so everything was a little overly amusing, but he doubted that would go over very well. He took a sip of water instead.

“I’m sure this is just a one-time thing,” he offered when he could speak with a straight face again—he couldn’t see Hillborne going for something like that.

She groaned again. “No. He’s cleared to be with us while he’s writing his next book.”

Dark brows shot toward his hairline, but before he could say anything, a smooth tenor in which he could _hear_ the self-assurance said, “Well, hi, Kate.”

A look of long-suffering appeared on her face as a well-dressed man with a hairstyle Flack himself had failed miserably at pulling off years ago (he’d tried to burn any pictures that cropped up, but they kept surfacing) stepped up to the table. She bit back a sigh and, without even attempting good humour, said, “Rick Castle, Detective Don Flack.”

  
 _Finis._

 _Feedback is always appreciated._


End file.
